


The Secret Beneath Engelsburg

by Philtatos



Series: Dream Sequence [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Blowjobs, Dubious Consent, Eldritch Monsters, Erotica, Gay Romance, M/M, Novella, Other, PWP, Restraints, Supernatural - Freeform, Tentacle Sex, dubcon, eldritch erotica, explicit gay sex, gay relationships, lovecraftian erotica, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2382770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philtatos/pseuds/Philtatos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'There was something I needed to know but when I tried to hear through the static where the sound of distant singing was, excruciating pain lanced through my temple and I screamed into the void. When my vision cleared again, I could not understand what I was seeing at first. And then I knew as it began to close in.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>A single tentacle moved toward me, between my legs. It was thicker than the others, blunted, and something barely discernible dripped from its tip.'</i>
</p><p>Simon Booker, a young Religious Studies student at Engelsburg University discovers an ancient horror lurking under his feet. It looms at the edge of his dreams, its static song calling. </p><p>For him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Preludes

**Author's Note:**

> Text copyright © by Weoulf Dietrich, 2014. All rights reserved.
> 
> All places and people in this story are entirely fictional and any similarities are unintentional and purely coincidental. No tentacle monsters were harmed in the making. 
> 
> Please do not reproduce without written permission from the author.

_Engelsburg, Australia  
1920._

  My father was an engineer, and his father before him was a doctor. Before him, my great-grandfather was a renowned marine biologist and so on.  
  I became none of these things.

  No. I, Simon Booker, was destined to become a teacher.

  Truth be told, I was barely successful in these fields of study during my schooling years and no matter how hard I tried, no fruit was borne from my efforts. Consequently, I had very little interest in them, much to the dismay of my parents.

  Unfortunately for all of us, there was not much they could do about it. The tutors they had hired for me often left with their heads shaking, speaking to my parents in hushed tones by the door so as not to offend me (though I never actually was).

  My talents - and interests - did not lie in mathematics and science. They lay elsewhere: in words, both written and spoken, and in the study of ancient religions. So much so was my passion for these things that I often drove my parents mad with excited babbling of heathen gods at the dinner table. My friends were much more willing to humour me when I attempted to describe to them an ancient civilisation I had read on, and sometimes even asked questions they seemed genuinely curious about.

  Despite all this, however, I had not considered a career in teaching. It was not until my dear aunt Editha suggested the career path to me during a Christmas dinner. I still remember the way my father had scrunched his nose up at the notion as my mother changed the topic quickly. But her words stuck with me and when the time came, there was not much my parents could do other than wish me the best of luck in my endeavours.

  And that is how it was that I came to find myself, a young and eager student, at Engelsburg University.

 

\--

 

  I was twenty-one years old when the following events took place. I had graduated high school at eighteen, spending two years of my life to find work and travel around the world before returning to Australia to study.

  Much of my travels abroad lead me to old places of worship that are now left in ruins; remains of gods and their followers.. I have seen the pyramids, their hieroglyphs, and I have looked upon the stone-carved face of Zeus. Altars and temples were marked with my footprints and the touch of my fingertips.

  During my travels, I came across one particular ruin that I can surely say was the jewel of all that I had come across. The find was a curious one because it was like the tip of an iceberg. Only a portion of it stood above the ground and the rest of the city was buried under the earth.

  The city had no name – at least, not an official one. It consisted of towering pillars and sloping roads that led down to blocked entrances. Perhaps the most distinguishing feature of all was that the city was completely made of pure, black stone. A beautiful place once upon a time, but lost to man now. There was writing there, records carved into the slabs of stone. But they were indecipherable. They had neither link nor similarity to any known language. It was an amalgamation of images, scrawling twists, and sharp angles.

  Something about the place touched my heart. I think it might have been the mystery of it all, and I think it might have been the air of reverence that surrounded it. Everything there was made with love, care, and only the best skill. I had wanted to spend the night there but the tour guide – as well as the locals that lived close by – refused to let me stay. They all believed it was haunted, and even if it wasn’t it, it was likely home to dangerous thieves and scavengers. I was disappointed but I went away with a small fragment of the city that I secreted away in my fist.

  Looking back on it all, I wonder if it was perhaps my youthful exuberance that led to my current state. I am but a shadow of who I once was but I am not dead yet, so there must be hope.

  The grounds of Engelsburg were large and old, with a restrained beauty about it. Hedges were clipped precisely, the grass mowed to an exact centimetre. Elegant stone statues of angels were perched atop buildings, and stood on either side of the large, iron gate that guarded the entrance to the university. I gazed at them in awe when I first arrived, looking every bit the slack-jawed freshman. Eventually, they simply became part of the scenery but it took me a good few weeks to navigate through the winding halls with any ease.

  The dorms were comfortable and lavish, the food excellent, and the lessons were more than enough to keep me on my toes. Should one decide to explore the grounds further, they would discover a vast array of facilities to keep the average student well amused, well fit, and well pampered. If not for the secret beneath Engelsburg, I would have said that my years there were the best years of my life.

  I stayed in a room that overlooked the sprawling ocean just beyond the forest of trees that lead to a mostly secluded beach. As an only child, I was used to a similarly sized bedroom that was more than big enough to hold two tall wooden shelves for my books, a desk, and a bed. Now, the room housed furniture for two and it felt strange, though hardly cramped.

  On the day that I met my roommate, I had arrived early at our dorm and I hoped that whoever he would be did not mind that I had claimed the bed to the right side of the room.

  When he finally did arrive, I was struck by the handsomeness of him.

  Asce Linden was a tall young man, around my height, and lean with an easy posture. His eyes were arctic blue; like deep waters and ice, but his face was not unkind. Straw blond hair swept to the side, a complexion as white as cream, and tight trousers that outlined a pair of uncomfortably attractive thighs that curved up towards slim hips. Unsurprisingly, I was entranced immediately. He greeted me with a bright smile and waved away my offer to move to the other bed if he preferred the side I chose.

  Reader, I must confess that I had always accepted my own…appetites. But as you may be able to imagine, I kept them to myself not only for my sake, but for my family.

  As fast as Mr. Linden made my heart race, I forced down the impulse to rake my eyes over his stylish figure and returned his smile with as much grace as I could muster.

  We became good friends very quickly, though he studied law and was not a particularly religious man. I was not myself, but as aforementioned, I was taken with the study of it.

  Asce Linden and I would often spend our nights studying in silence. Though always without fail, Asce would stretch his arms over his head and cross the room to kick the back of my chair to let me know whenever he was hungry. It had become something of a ritual.

  Then we would grab our coats and head over to the cafeteria, or if we were feeling particularly stressed, down to a diner to unwind.

  It was during one of these late dinners that I discovered that he was only nineteen years old. This prompted me to attempt giving him space, just so that he could make friends closer to his age. But during the day he pursued me down hallways if we passed each other and sat with me in the library when our schedules allowed it.

  To my great shame, I found that I was sometimes grateful when he came home late or left the room early in the mornings and I had the room to myself.

  I enjoyed Asce's company; truly.

  I enjoyed his presence, the lingering scent of his cologne, the cocky sway of his hips as he walked, his small breaths in the night, the moon illuminating the perfectly sculpted planes of his face, his naked torso peeking out from beneath the sheets despite the cold.

  I enjoyed all of these things and that is where they problem lay.

  More and more often my mind (and hand) would wander to places that left me panting against my pillow, my body flushed with heat. The only humorous thing about the whole situation was that I changed my sheets often and I suspected that Asce was beginning to think that I had an issue with hygiene. But as ashamed as I was, I could not stop and the pining I felt for Mr. Linden took me back to my years as a teen.

 

\--

 

  It was a chilly night the first time Asce Linden kissed me.

  I had stopped breathing when I felt the warm sensation of lips pressed against mine, my back pressed against the pole of a streetlight. Asce's eyes were closed, his long lashes brushing the constellation of barely visible freckles on his cheeks. The streets were empty but I was still terrified that we would be seen - two men kissing beneath a full moon.

  I must have hesitated for too long because I felt Asce tense and begin to pull away. There was an apology there on his face.   
  _No_. I thought, panicked.  
  And without thinking any further, I grabbed his scarf and pulled him back towards me with more force than was necessary. I caught a brief glimpse of his eyes wide with surprise before our lips met once again. I knew my own were chapped, dry from the cold air that had settled over the country for the autumn. But Asce's were wonderful, perfect, and still tasting of his after-dinner coffee. His gloved hands hovered over my waist for a heartbeat before finally settling on them.

  How we managed to get back to our dorm is a mystery to me; I don't remember the trip back nor do I remember who unlocked and pushed the door open first. My jacket was on the floor the moment we stepped through the threshold, my fingers working to loosen my roommate's scarf and tie. Asce had his arms thrown around my neck and he was running his tongue eagerly along my teeth. I parted my mouth easily for him and he wasted no time in ensuring that breathing became a difficult task.

  We stumbled over to my bed, discarding both our jackets and shirts on the way. The back of my knees hit the bed first and Asce firmly pushed me backwards onto the mattress. I gasped, excited, while Asce stood above me and began to undo his belt-buckle. Propping myself up on my elbows, I let myself take in the sight of the young man before me. His shoulders were broad, though not quite like my own, and his chest was toned and smooth. My eyes slid down his slender waist to his flat stomach, which was also surprisingly lined with muscle, and then over his sharp hip bones, which were slowly being revealed as Asce teasingly slid his trousers down.

  The outline of his hardening cock was obvious against the fabric of his underwear.

  I swallowed.

  My own erection, still trapped in the confines of my undergarments and trousers, was beginning to cause me some serious discomfort. Obviously guessing my thoughts, Asce gave me a flash of white teeth. With deft hands, he rid me of the obstructing garments, fingernails lightly caressing the skin above the band of my underwear.   
  His shockingly blue eyes searched mine and when I gave him a single nod, he tugged them off too.

  The cold air was sharp, my cock jutting out against it. Asce gazed openly, eyes darkening with lust, and perhaps unconsciously, ran a wet tongue over his lips. Long, slender fingers brushed against my length. A thumb pressed against the sensitive head where a drop of pre-cum had accumulated, smearing it as he drew the digit over the slit.   
  I gave a low groan, eyes fluttering half-closed, while Asce's soft hand closed around me and slowly began to move. Warmth began to pool in my stomach and my breathing grew laboured as the pleasure of Asce's palm against my cock served to render me speechless. His pace grew neither faster nor slower and when I finally managed to fix my eyes on his face, my heart threatened to beat right out of my chest at his expression. The look of adoration so blatantly fixed on his fine features was almost too much.

  Belatedly, I realised that the other man had yet to fully undress, and I doubted that he didn't notice how he strained against his underwear. With admittedly much difficulty, I leaned forward and hooked my index finger on the band and gave a tug. Asce's already heavy breathing hitched when it caught on the head of his member and then sprung free. My breathing quickened and I found myself hungry to elicit whatever sounds from him that I could; hungry to see his eyes heavy lidded and lips bruised. I sat up, pushing Asce's trousers and underwear down his milky thighs, my hands running over the warm skin.

  "Wait," Asce breathed, mouth on my ear, and I barely stopped my hands from roaming any higher. "Just wait a second."

  He slipped away from me, and I couldn't stop myself from watching his figure as he stepped gracefully across the room. This was not the first time I had seen the man naked, but each and every time had been brief. We were roommates after all - both men - so there wasn't anything particularly strange about it. Save for the fact that my gazes and thoughts had a penchant for wandering, of course.

  Asce rummaged for something in his sock drawer while I admired the lines of his body. Idly, I continued to stroke myself with one hand, a pleased hum on my lips. I didn't bother to rush him; simply sure that whatever Asce was doing would be worth the wait. When he found what he was looking for, he gave a quiet, "Aha!" and I craned my neck to see what he was holding up to the light.   
  Before I could properly come to a conclusion, Asce sauntered back to the bed and with deliberate movements as graceful as gymnast, placing his knees on either side of my thighs to straddle me. The bed creaked with our weight and it bordered obscene.

  His smell was, for lack of a better term, intoxicating:  all sweat and lingering hints of caffeine, and smoke from a fireplace. Asce dangled the thing he had procured from his sock drawer in front of my face. A small glass vial with a plastic cap. It was clear, and underneath the yellow light of the bedroom, so was the purpose of its contents. I arched a single brow and he smirked, pushing the thing into my hand.

  "Have at it, Mr. Booker."

  I laughed as I unscrewed the lid quickly. All the while, Asce continued to place languid kisses along my jaw and down to the crook of my neck. Teeth scraped at the skin there, my pulse erratic under his tongue. The lubricant was slick, coating my fingers thickly and I made sure to apply it liberally over my length. Asce pressed in flush against me, his cock throbbing and hot between us.

  With one hand on his lower back, I moved the other between his ass and traced the cleft there until Asce made an impatient sound and bit harder. I grinned to myself and finally, nudged at the puckered hole with my fingers. The sweet blond gasped softly against my neck, hands grasping my shoulders, bracing himself.

  "Are you ready?" I asked. My voice was barely louder than a murmur.

  He swallowed audibly. "Of course."

  And with that, I slid in the first digit. There wasn't any real change in Asce's breathing but he pulled back just enough so our eyes met as my finger moved in and out in a steady rhythm. It was only when I added a second finger did Asce grace me with another hitched breath and a tiny pleased sound at the back of his throat. A shock of pleasure ran through me when I heard it, and I continued my ministrations, pressing my fingers in right up to my knuckles.

  When I began to scissor them, Asce's response was electric. He groaned, high and breathy in my ear, pressing harder against me, his body heat thrumming through my skin. Fingers tangled through my dark curls and I felt a buzz of pleasure when he tugged lightly. His hips jerked once, his cock sliding against me, and he gave another soft moan. When I added a third finger, Asce kissed me hard on the mouth as he bucked. The room was hot, so hot, almost stifling and I felt dazed when the younger man pulled away to reach a hand beneath us. He winked, and began to firmly pump my shaft, trailing pre-cum with each stroke. I groaned, low and guttural, and withdrew my fingers from him to grip his hips. Pleasure and heat was singing through my veins. Asce's eyes were hazy, lidded, mouth slightly parted like one of my many wet dreams.

  Part of me still wasn't fully convinced this wasn't some vivid vision but that changed quickly when Asce began to lower himself onto me.

  The tip of my cock brushed against his perineum and Asce exhaled a breathy whine, setting a rush of warmth through the pit of my stomach. And then Asce was shifting, positioning himself properly. Then, all I could feel was the slow press into oiled heat. I could feel his entrance tighten around the head of my cock and Asce cried out. I thrust upwards reflexively, only one sharp movement, but it was met with an appreciative moan in my ear as Asce's tight ass continued to press down, inch by inch. I couldn't stop the hiss that slipped through my teeth and I bit down on his pale shoulder. Though Asce was obviously trying to keep his breathing steady, I could feel his thighs shaking with the effort to hold him up, and his hands were still tugging on my hair. The slow, sweet, sweet burn of pleasure was dizzying as Asce eased himself down, gasping every now and then, both our chests heaving with effort until I was finally, completely, inside.

  Heat. Tight and slick. So much. Pressed against me, every part of me. Wet breaths on my ear, against his throat, hands now on my chest, pushing me back down on to the mattress -

  We stayed that way for a few heartbeats, braced against each other, until Asce cupped my face in

his hands and whispered, "Move."

  So I did.

  I began to fuck him in earnest, my hips rocking in and out of him with shallow thrusts. At first, I tried to keep a steady pace, tried to force myself to experience every electric sensation of being inside Asce Linden. But then he began to move with me, whining impatiently at the back of his throat, and I could feel whatever control I had completely slipping away.

  My eyes never left his face. I couldn't bring myself to tear my gaze away from Asce's flushed cheeks, lashes quivering, mouth parted to let out the inarticulate sounds of pleasure. They tangled with my rasping pants and jumbled endearments. Each slide of his ass on my cock, every minute shift, kept driving me closer and closer to a building sensation deep inside me. It became an ache; a desperation. I ran my hands over his thighs, his waist and hips, over the perfect curve of his ass.

  I must have sped up at one point, or shifted the position of my hips, canting them upwards at another angle, because Asce gave out a single sharp cry that shot liquid gold down my spine. I thrust again in the same spot - again and again - watching with loving fascination as Asce's eyes flew open, wide and true, perfect teeth showing to gnaw on his bottom lip.  
  "Oh, god. Simon," my roommate's voice sounded raw and my name fell from the white column of his throat, wedging itself somewhere in the drumbeat of my heart. "Simon, there. Again. There, there, oh god - _Please_ , Simon."

  "You should see what you look like right now," the slide of muscle in his biceps, the fall of sweat-drenched hair over his forehead. A drawn-out groan tore itself from me and I could only pant for a good few seconds before continuing: "Beautiful. You're so beautiful, Asce. You're doing so well." He whimpered in response, the wonderful scarlet of his cheeks deepening.

  Another roll of hips from above and another eager thrust. Asce was barely holding himself up so I moved a hand between us and gripped his flushed cock. He whined and bucked into my grip, legs spreading just a little further as I pumped him with sure strokes. He was slick with sweat and pre-cum; whines turned to fevered moans.

  I knew I couldn't last much longer; there was no way. The pulse inside of him was almost unbearable. Climax was close, just on the red of my vision, and Asce fervently moaned pleas to move faster, _harder, harder, oh Simon, please, please. I'm so close._

  "Asce, I can't - I'm going to -," I heard myself speaking and the broken words were barely intelligible but Asce responded with something equally inarticulate. And then I felt the sharp, pulsing jerk of his lean body against mine. The tell-tale wet stripe of heat on my stomach and chest. Asce came above me, sweet lips parting to cry out my name, and I tried to savour every bit of his release. I was too close behind however, and I came hard inside.

 

\--

 

  We lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs, trying to breathe in the cooling air around us. I could feel Asce's weight as he clutched my chest and pressed his face to my neck. I had not pulled out yet – I was much too hazy to move and I suspected that Asce was beginning to fall asleep. While this was not a particular problem, the fact that we were partially hanging off the edge of the bed _was_. I didn't want to wake him, but there didn't seem to be a more comfortable choice.

  "Asce, wake up."

  "Mmmf," was his articulate reply and he nestled in closer. I sighed, running a hand down his naked back. Each knob of his spine was defined under my fingertips and Asce made another small, satisfied sound.

  "I'm falling off the bed, Asce," I tried to turn my head to look at him. Asce cracked one blue eye open. He smiled sleepily and my heart undeniably skipped a beat.

  "Did you say something, Simon?"

  "I said we need to move or we're going to be on the floor in a second."

  He laughed and with some effort, managed to slide off me. We both groaned at the feeling and he rolled over to the side heavily. The night air coupled with the cooling sweat on my skin had me shivering but Asce didn't even seem to notice. I stood to my feet, the bed dipping with the action, and surveyed the room. Our forgotten clothes were scattered all over the room: tossed over a lampshade, on the carpet, flung carelessly against the wall. It was almost comical.

  When I turned back to Asce, his eyes were open and on me.

  "Are you okay, Simon?"

  "Couldn't be better," I said and meant it. "Do you want to sleep like that or are you going to move?"

  An impish smile crossed his face then. "I don't think I can move, love."

  I couldn't help it. I laughed and stepped closer as he stretched an arm out in my direction.

  "Shall I carry you?"

  "If you would be so kind, Mr. Booker."

  Asce was heavier than I thought but I managed to hook my arms under his knees and shoulders, and lifted him off the mattress like a bride. He gave a surprised yelp and clung to me until I had deposited him back properly onto my bed. The blond shimmied under the sheets before scooting back against the wall and gestured for me to lie back down next to him. I slid in with him, our sticky skin warming with contact.

  We fell asleep that way: Asce's head on my bicep and mine on top of his yellow hair.  
 

  A wonderful prelude for the horrors to come.


	2. Of Dark Waters

  And so the nature of our relationship stayed that way for a time.

  More often than not I would wake up to a warm body pressed against my chest, eyes of Arctic seas, framed with thick, long lashes, on mine; sharp blue on mellow green. Lips kissed down my stomach, teeth scraped at my hips. I would tangle my fingers in his soft hair, massaging his scalp. Moaning low and lazy as he hummed around my cock, sending vibrations of pleasure through my abdomen while he cupped my balls and gently rolled them between skilled fingers.

  Asce's mouth would always be wet, hot and eager - cheeks hollowed, tongue dancing on the underside of my cock, playing with the sensitive vein there. Electricity shot through my nerves whenever he pulled his head back to tongue my slit. When I came, I saw white behind my eyelids and he swallowed what he could with a coy smirk.

  We would haul ourselves up in the mornings with just enough time to bathe together in our cramped bathroom, dress and rush down to the cafeteria for a quick breakfast before heading off to our respective classes. I hadn't pressed Asce on whether we were simply friends with benefits or something more; I was just riding the wave of things. If I found him sprawled on my bed without trousers or I distracted him with wandering hands while he studied, we would quite eagerly find ourselves sweating and panting in the time it took us to take our clothes off.

  Personally, the idea of officially courting the young man tended to set my heart racing. I couldn't even shake the jealousy that followed me whenever a friendly hand or wandering gaze found him. Damn what society had to say.

  Half of our first year had yet to pass, however, when I first heard rumours about the catacombs. It was also when the dreams started.

  I suppose I should've expected something to happen. While many of the students at Engelsburg were scions to grand old families, raised with poise and often harbouring an aristocratic disposition, a good portion of us bordered on eccentric. My classes in particular tended to be the hub of rather deviant individuals - wild youths that not only studied the history of ancient gods but practised their religions, sombre adults that dressed in dour greys and black, and only ever wore long sleeves regardless of the weather. I recognised faces of students that were the source of complaints due to unpleasant stenches wafting from their dorm rooms late into the night.

  Mostly, I stayed out of their way. I chose instead to make friends with those whose interests in the teachings

of Neththeia and the worship of Ach'ash were strictly theoretical. But sometimes, their conversations piqued my interest.

  That is how I first learnt about the tunnels: secret routes that lead to a massive space beneath Engelsburg. Theories were tossed in the air about what it hid from the living - treasure, maybe. Remains, most likely. One particularly zealous student suggested it was the burial ground for followers of a forgotten deity. Even Asce seemed interested about the tunnels and catacombs when I brought them up with him. He shared some practical ideas of where these hidden entrances might be and we joked about looking for them together one night. We never did, of course. We were usually too pre-occupied.

  Most professors let us have our fun, but Professor Curwin very firmly shut down our speculations. Perhaps for our own good; a good lot of us were becoming distracted with the thought of being the first to discover an entrance instead of studying.

  Professor Jules Curwin: strong hands, broad chest, long legs, dark, dark eyes that were almost black, and hair the colour of earth. He was a severely attractive man of maybe forty years old, whose well-built physique used to play a recurring role in my midnight fantasies (on my knees in a locked office, tongue on hot flesh and my lips stretched around it, hand pulling at my hair, saliva and cum on my cheek -).

  But Prof. Curwin was a good man most of all. He often entertained my queries and requests for him to look over my essays, and even sometimes allowed me to buy him a coffee during the day. It made it easy to talk to him and I learned over the course of my first semester that he had also travelled extensively before deciding to return to Australia and teach. We spoke often about our adventures. Eventually, Prof. Curwin and I would have lunch together if he didn't have a class and Asce was busy.

  One day, over a plate of half-eaten sandwiches, I asked the professor if he had any thoughts on any of the interesting characters that showed up to his lectures. I had only intended to initiate some small talk but the man had gone silent. When I looked up from my food, he was leaning back into his chair, arms crossed. It was as if he was seriously considering his answer and I ate quietly to let him think. Finally, he uncrossed his arms and spoke just as I was finishing off my rapidly cooling mug of coffee.

  "They're very dedicated to their studies," he said and scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Awfully intense. I hear they have a habit of frightening other students.” I nodded in reply here.

  “But," Professor Curwin paused briefly. "They provide some interesting perspectives in their essays." His eyes, as black as tar, were focused on something beyond my head and his rich voice became quiet. "Truths that an

outsider cannot see - or hope to comprehend."

  "Truths?" I asked, confused. My question seemed to bring him back to whatever place his mind had wandered to and he fixed me with a winning smile.

  "A conversation for another time, perhaps." Prof. Curwin's voice was jovial and he pushed his mug away from him as he got ready to stand. I followed suit, making my way to my feet.

  And then the professor's thumb was on the corner of my mouth. I blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend this new development. My mind could not seem to process anything; not even when he swiped the pad along my bottom lip in one, deliberate movement. It was strangely smooth, like there were no callouses or ridges of a thumbprint. The smell of his skin was dizzyingly like that of the sea. Unthinkingly, I ran my tongue along the place he touched and an expression I had never seen on Professor Curwin's face flickered across his stern features.

  I froze when I realised what I had done, but the older man simply held out his hand to show me a small smear of white, features passive. "You had this on your face."

  "Oh. Thank you."

  Feeling embarrassed and more than a little flustered, I began to wipe at my face with a napkin, furiously trying to think of something to say when Professor Curwin's own tongue flicked out to lick the small spot of mayonnaise still on the pad of his thumb. Heat flared up in my cheeks, despite myself. My heart hammered hard against my ribs and I tried to ignore the fact that Prof. Curwin's eyes would not leave mine.

  "I-I've got to…I have a class right now," I managed to stammer before gathering my things. Prof. Curwin nodded understandingly and didn't try to stop me as I all but fled the cafeteria. Hopefully, no one had seen what transpired between us. As I hurried across the university grounds, I gave my chest a good few thumps to try and dispel its erratic beating and tried not to think about Asce.

 

* * *

 

 

  The sky was already dark with nightfall when I finally fell through the threshold of my room, and I felt more exhausted than usual.

  Asce was sitting at his desk, idly rolling a fountain pen between his forefinger and thumb, looking down at his books with unseeing eyes. His otherwise perfect hair was mused and I could see a hint of collarbone through his partially unbuttoned shirt. The poor man appeared to be as tired as I felt - he didn't even seem to hear when the door clicked shut.

  Setting my leather bag onto the carpeted floor as quietly as I could, I tip-toed across the room until I was directly behind the blond's chair. He still hadn't noticed my presence and I inhaled deeply, leaning in close to his ear.

  Then blew noisily into it.

  I must admit that a hugely childish part of me delighted in Asce's startled and then pained yelp as his knee slammed into his table. The pen he had been holding flew up into the air and landed somewhere behind us. I cackled, clutching at my stomach as uncontrollable laughter escaped from me. Asce spun around in his seat so fast I was sure he had given himself whiplash.

  "Simon!" he sputtered. "You…You incorrigible asshole. I could've died!" He threw the half-eaten

apple resting on the corner of his desk and it hit my arm with a light thump. I laughed harder.

  "You…" Tears were beginning to gather in the corner of my eyes. "You should see your face."

  Asce didn't even bother to grace me with an answer. He just pouted, turning his back to me. It took me another good minute to stop laughing and when I finally managed to pull myself together, Asce was furiously scratching at a piece of paper with another pen. I placed my hands on his shoulders, kneading at the tense muscles there but he refused to face me again.

  "Oh, don't be like that."

  "Hmph."

  "Come now, Asce. I was just having a little fun."

  "Well, you can have fun all by yourself tonight."

  I snorted but somehow managed to restrain the new bout of laughter to just a small giggle. My thumbs dragged along the back of his neck. Despite all his posturing, Asce's head drooped forward with a sigh. I leaned forward to kiss the place behind his ear, trailing down to his shoulder-blades, pushing the obstructing fabric of his shirt to the side.

  "Forgive me?"

  Asce did not answer but he tilted his head up to look at me, eyes narrowed. So handsome. So painfully, achingly handsome. I stroked his cheek with my knuckles, running it down to his jaw, across to his chin. My fingers brushed against his Adam's apple. His gaze was piercing but the curve of his lips was wonderful. He reached up a hand to touch my mouth.

  "Welcome back, Simon."

  "Thank you." I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face as Asce finally stood to greet me properly. My arms folded around his slender waist as he tugged me close by the lapels of my blazer.

  He kissed me deeply and I eagerly reciprocated, our tongues moving against each other. Forgiven, then. I must admit that I felt a vague sense of relief - he wasn't serious about having to pleasure myself that night. Before I knew it, my hands were on his ass cheeks, massaging them through his damned well-fitting trousers. When we pulled apart to breathe, Asce's brows were raised and his pink tongue ran slowly over his lips.

  "You taste like sea-salt."

  I tensed. Jules Curwin's face appeared in my mind's eye like an unwanted vision and I struggled to

force the memory of his thumb on my mouth. If Asce noticed, he didn't mention it. He only

pushed his hips back into my hands with a playful grin and any tiredness from earlier dissipated

rather quickly.

  We fucked against his study desk that night; Asce's palms flat on the wooden desk and ass out, legs spread. His clothes pooled around out feet.

  The strange lunch from that afternoon was forgotten as I ran hungry eyes over the white expanse

of Asce's skin; a red blush beginning to spread. He had freckles scattered over his shoulders; the dip and rise of his spine prominent. My chest flattened against his back as I bent forward, one arm around his front, a hand teasing and fondling his balls. The jolts of pleasure that raced through him were obvious in the clench and unclench of his muscles. His head hung forward, jaw loose. My other hand held him still, even as he bucked and groaned at the lack of any real friction, begging without any real words.

  My cock rested on his crack, rubbing against the cleft between his ass cheeks slowly; hot and throbbing with my own desire. All the while, Asce's voice was getting higher with need – I savoured it, though it took most of my willpower not to push in all at once and rut like an animal.

  "Mmm…Simon." He whined my name, sounding like desperation. "Simon, must you pick on me

tonight?"

  I pressed a kiss to his neck and smirked against his skin. Asce's arms were straining, shivering, as he held us up. "Why the rush?"

  "Why the rush - are you asking me this seriously?" He bucked again and I dug my nails in his pale skin, leaving small red crescents in place. Asce squirmed but when he realised that my grip was not going to ease, he tried to push backwards against my shaft. I couldn't stop my pleased hum and I felt Asce shift.

  "Fuck me properly alrea - _hahhh_."

  He cut off abruptly when I drew back to push the head of my cock against his already slick entrance; we could only play around for so long, after all. He let out a shaky voice, trying to regain what composure he could. The head sunk in, my breathing hitching, and we moaned simultaneously as I began to slide the rest of my length forward. I inched in, thrusting shallowly to the hilt - no matter how often we did this, Asce remained tight around me. His rim twitched as it stretched and I inhaled sharply at the feeling.

  My hand gave his balls one quick squeeze, making Asce gasp, before gripping his shoulder and hip firmly. Then I began to move my own hips, pulling back as far as I could without slipping out and pushed back in with a sharp thrust. My skin slapped against his obscenely as I pumped in and out. Asce gave a small whimper that made me bite a mark into his shoulder.

  I fucked him hard and fast, the desk rocking with the force of my thrusts. Some far away part of me was worried about knocking his desk-lamp over, but a larger part of me did not care. Asce's moans grew longer, more drawn out and we moved in tandem with desperate motions. Hot and slick with sweat, spit and pre-cum.

  We both lurched forward at one point, as Asce collapsed on the desk to support himself on an elbow, one hand moving between his legs franticly as he jerked himself. His moans were loud and high; breathy, constant - voice breaking as he tried to stutter out 'Simon', over and over again.

  I groaned my pleasure in his ear, sometimes nipping at his earlobe, and other times pressing flush against him to kiss his swollen bow lips. Asce continued to whisper my name fervently and cried out whenever I hit his prostate, eyes shining and glazed.

  When I reached around his front again, this time to pinch a stiff nipple between my forefinger and

thumb. Asce tossed his head back, hair plastered to his forehead and mouth slightly parted with a silent gasp. Something ached in my chest, deeper than pleasure, more than just base attraction. I wanted to tell him he was beautiful.

  I wanted to tell him that I -

  "Simon," he rasped, lashes fluttering closed. I saw him swallow and I raked my nails down his shoulder to his waist. "Simon, I'm - _oh_ \- I'm going to come."

  "Then come for me.” I was surprised with the way the words slipped from me. They were not a command, they were a request. Asce shuddered once, twice, before spurting his seed onto his desk and my still stroking fingers.

  He tightened around me as he hissed out his pleasure and my hips stuttered at the suddenly overwhelming heat and pressure before I was coming too. The white liquid trickled from his hole and onto our floor when

I pulled out.

  Asce slid to his knees, forehead against the edge of his desk. I managed to stay on my feet but I was still panting, trying to catch my breath. A few seconds passed before Asce peered up from his spot on the floor to grin cheekily at me and I grinned back. Then we were laughing together, eyes never leaving the other. We had made quite a mess, and I was thankful we at least had half the mind to move Asce's notes before we started our rather vigorous activities.

  We cleaned ourselves quickly afterwards, with no thought of fooling around any further. The day's exhaustion hit us again as we soaked in the hot bathwater. I fear we would have both fallen asleep in it if I had not accidentally smacked my head on the tile wall when I began to drift off.

  Asce crawled into bed with me when we dried and dressed. He hardly ever slept in his own bed

anymore, and I never voiced any objections, no matter how small the space was. Perhaps it was foolish to think so, but it was blissful and I wanted it to last.

 

* * *

 

 

  My dream opened up in blackness; a writhing blackness that held something beneath deep beneath its impenetrable surface.

  I tried to recoil from it but found that I was surrounded by the void. No sound was welcome here, not even my breathing. Not even my desperate cries. _Where was this place_?

  Here, terror was stark and seeping into my pores, and my naked skin felt cold – clammy.

  And where was Asce in this desolate world? Was I to be here alone; forever?

  Something wet touched my cheeks and I shuddered violently, bringing my fingers to my face only to realise that they were tears. I was crying and my chest was heaving with the fear blooming inside.

  And then, like a gentle lover's touch, a tendril of inky blackness rose from beneath me and stroked up from my ankle to my knee. Unthinkingly, I slapped at whatever it was, but it did not pull away. Instead it wrapped around my leg, warm and pulsing, and continued its ascent. My nails dug into it, tearing, tugging - it made no difference. If anything, it seemed to make matters worse.

  Three more tendrils snaked up from whatever pit they came from, two lashing my arms above my head and one tangled with my other leg. They tugged, spreading me out and I gasped. Or at least I think I did. It was so difficult to tell what was truly happening in that space.

  I struggled fiercely against the bonds but to no avail. I should not have been there, that much I did know. The darkness was pressing in on me, smothering - breathing became a challenge and the taste of sea-salt burst on my tongue. A static rose in the back of my mind and white images began to flash before my eyes.

  A call.

  A call to…to what?

  There was something I needed to know but when I tried to hear through the static where the sound of distant singing was, excruciating pain lanced through my temple and I screamed into the void.

  When my vision cleared again, I could not understand what I was seeing at first. And then I knew as it began to close in.

  A single tentacle moved toward me, between my legs. It was thicker than the others, blunted, and

something barely discernible dripped from its tip.

 

* * *

 

 

  I awoke with a violent jolt.

  Sweat dripped into my eyes and I wiped it away with the back of my hand, breathing hard and fast. _What was…where…?_

  Sunlight hit me like a punch to the face, making me reel for half a second. Then, my surroundings came into focus and fell back onto the mattress with a groan. The space on the bed beside me was empty of Asce, and it was already cool.

  A small note lay on the pillow however, his scrawling handwriting on off-white parchment. Despite my hammering pulse, I smiled.

 

_Dearest Mr. Booker,_

_I've gone on ahead. I was going to wake you but something tells me you need the rest. Shall we have dinner together at Wakefield's tonight? My treat._

_\- A._

 

  I read the note over twice before setting it on my cluttered bedside table and stood with a wince. If I felt this sore in the mornings, I couldn't even begin to imagine how Asce was coping. The thought of him brought another smile to my face. A quick glance at my clock told me that I had missed my first lecture of the day, but I couldn't bring myself to particularly care. It was Professor Curwin's class and I was sure he wouldn't mind lending me his notes for the lessons. I would just forget the lunch and act like nothing had happened. I was certain he would do the same.

  The light from outside pooled into the room as I pushed the curtains back and the window up. A breeze rolled past me and my eyes immediately slid over to where the ocean was visible in the horizon. Discomfort nagged at me, like a forgotten dream, but I could not deny the appeal of the sun reflecting off dark waves.


	3. Of Static Songs

  "Simon. We didn't see you in class this morning. Are you alright?"

  I mustered the most reassuring smile I could as I stepped into the Prof. Curwin's office. The man was standing in front of his bookshelf by a single arching window.

  He had a book in one hand and he peered over its cover worriedly. _The Prophecies of Osuq'i: A Study_ , it read. Something about its old leather made me queasy so I focused my gaze elsewhere.

  The room was so cold; its bare stone walls retained no heat and his furnace, I could see, was off. "I'm fine, sir. I just slept in."

  "A busy night, then." Not an inquiry. He cocked both brows up knowingly and I laughed at his grin.

  "Perhaps," I admitted with just a trace of contentment. Asce's playful expression the night before danced through my mind. It was Professor Curwin's turn to chuckle and he shook his head, muttering something that sounded quite like: _the youth these days_.

  Setting the book down onto the shelf, he gestured for me to come in closer. I crossed the room to where he stood, hands in my coat pockets.

  "So how can I help you, Simon?"

  "I was wondering if I might be able to borrow your lecture materials. From the one I missed."

  "You didn't ask one of your friends?" Despite his question, Prof. Curwin was already moving towards his desk reaching for his black suitcase that lay open already.

  I shook my head in answer. "I wanted to make sure they didn't miss any important notes," I chanced an appropriately contrite look. "And I thought it would be easier to get them off you."

  "Well, I suppose you're right there. I've been spoiling you," he crossed back over to me, hold a Manila folder out in my direction bound in twine and I took it gratefully. Our fingers brushed for the briefest second, something sparking through the small bit of skin that made contact with his.

  Instinctively, I recoiled but it was not out of disgust. No, it was because there was something there. Something that perhaps, before Asce, I would have hungered for. Pursued. He felt it too - I could tell.

  Professor Curwin stepped closer, the scuff of his shoe on carpet almost loud. I knew if I angled my head just so, if I shifted to stand on my toes, we would be but a kiss away from the other.

  "Simon." The professor's voice was quiet and my breathing sounded loud in the room. We were on a knife's edge and my back was flat against the stone wall. Its rough surface scratched at the pads of my fingers.

  Suddenly, the stone wall turned blistering hot. I tore away from it with a yelp of pain. Prof. Curwin looked startled, twisting to the side to let me push past him. I clutched my hand to my chest, tears stinging my eyes. I forced myself to look down at my skin and -

  - And the skin was untarnished; the pain disappearing as quickly as it came.

"Simon, what's wrong?" Professor Curwin's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts. He sounded panicked, almost distressed. I could not focus on his face or his muffled words. A cloudy part of me told me to stop, to reassure him. "Simon, did I-? I'm sorry, I didn't-".

  But I was already backing towards the door, lecture notes forgotten on the floor. Sweat broke out on my brow and I rushed out of the room as static buzzed at the base of my skull.

 

* * *

 

  I avoided Professor Curwin the rest of the day.

  For both our sakes.  
  I had begged sick to my other professors, all of which agreed that I looked as if I could use a good night's sleep. Perhaps it was the desperation in my voice or the suddenly pallid colouring of my skin. The brief reflections I caught of my face in hallway mirrors and windows disturbed me with how haggard I looked.   
  Surely this had something to do with the walls of Prof. Curwin's office, but I could not be so sure. What had happened, all of it, had rattled me beyond reason. Of course, I found this all extremely peculiar. I was not one to find myself easily shaken by things.  
  While I was perhaps more willing to indulge in superstition and the supernatural than most, I made sure to always consider the most logical explanation to come to the most logical conclusion. There would be something, I told myself as I wandered the halls back to my dorm. There would be something that could explain what happened and that one whispering voice in my head would finally recede back into the recesses of my imagination.  
  For I knew the instant I pulled away that it was not the walls of Professor Curwin that had seared itself into my skin.   
  It was the walls of Engelsburg.

* * *

 

 

  "Simon, are you sure you're okay to go out tonight? You look awful."

  "Why, thank you Asce. You don't look so bad yourself."

  "I'm serious, Simon. We should stay in tonight," Asce's hand was cool on my forehead, gentle fingers brushing the damp hair plastered to my forehead. I had been sweating profusely in my sleep. The young man had come in when the screaming started and he had immediately shaken me awake. At the risk of sounding like a love-stricken fool (which I undoubtedly was), I must confess that it was the sound of his voice calling my name that had pulled me from whatever nightmare was plaguing me. Waking to his furrowed brows and hands on either side of my face was more than enough to return me to the world of the living.

  Apparently I had fallen asleep during the afternoon, the moment I had managed to stumble into bed, still fully dressed. Asce's presence implied that it was already evening and I struggled once again to sit up. Had I really fallen into such an ill state in only a few hours? I could make neither heads nor tails of it, but Asce had simply chalked it up to stress and lack of sleep. He had smiled ruefully at the latter.

  The world spun dizzyingly for a moment, my sudden movement rewarding me with a splitting headache. When Asce pushed me back down onto the bed with soothing words, I did not fight him.

  "I can still go and pick some soup up from Wakefield's. Or the cafeteria," I saw the gold halo of hair above me shift from view; the edge of my bed dipping briefly as Asce stood to his feet. I could hear the shuffle of clothes.

  Then Asce's voice, low with concern. "Will you be alright on your own for a bit?"

  "Fine," I croaked. Swallowed. "I'll be fine. Might sleep some more, until you come back."

  "You should do that, love." His face appeared briefly over mine, a soft smile on his bow lips as he kissed my forehead. He caressed my cheek and warmth blossomed in my chest, spreading to my toes. "Wait for me, Simon."

  Then he was gone from my line of sight, his steps quick towards the door. It closed behind him gently with a quiet click.

 

* * *

 

 

  Dark waters.

  Black stones, smooth beneath my bare back.

  Legs splayed.

  Mouth open, choking on water and the bitter smell of life and decay.

  Something heavy on my chest, my stomach. Slick with slime, almost burning to the touch.

  Like my first my dream, I could barely see through the thick shadows that blanketed everything, relying on what other senses that I could. Shapes of things alive shifted and heaved, but I could not tell what they were through the screen of black. Fear fogged my thoughts. I was back in this place where light and sound was unwelcome. My dream-self struggled to sit up, to try and understand -

  The thing on my chest moved.

  Instantly, fear shot through my body.

  My breathing became haggard at the touch that was altogether familiar and unfamiliar; the tentacle moved slowly, a flickering tip tracing the planes of my body. It had the same ink-black appearance as the tendrils from the first dream, only an outline of it was visible. I tried sit up, or maybe stand. To run. I had to get out of there, I knew with every fibre of my being.

  But I could not.

  Arms, legs - no part of me seemed to want to cooperate. I could only lie back helplessly as the tentacle's insistent touch became firmer, languidly stroking my stomach. My muscles in my abdomen tightened and convulsed at the wet sensation; cringing as I realised that there was power in its movements. Even if I managed to stand, to run, I would not escape. Suckers nipped at my skin and I knew undoubtedly that the suction would leave red welts on me. My mouth opened in a silent cry. There was pain - and there was pleasure. Only the thick slime of the tentacle soothed the burn, sliding down my sides and ribs in giant drops into the water beneath me.

  The elongated organ moved lower, touched my hip briefly, before wrapping itself around my soft cock. I panicked as it moved with curious purpose. As if it knew to touch me there, but not why. The static that had been a near-silent hum in my head suddenly increased in volume. There was the sound of low, drawn out cries and wildly pitched singing hidden beneath the screen of white noise. Non-human. I shook violently, but my limbs could do little more than twitch.  
  As if sensing my distress, the tentacle loosened its grip on me. But it did not let go. Instead, it began to stroke my shaft with slow, sure strokes. And to my horror, I could feel myself getting hard. Cold honey surged through me and I keened softly.

_No, please, no -_

  The buzzing intensified until I could not hear my own thoughts.

  Another tentacle, as wide as my wrist, moved up my thigh. The suckers plucked at the tender skin between my legs. More marks. More pain-pleasure behind my eyelids. I gasped air into my lungs desperately.

  The tentacle resumed its crawl up to knead against my balls, drawing them as I tensed for release. The moan that strained out of me was swallowed by the darkness. Pleasure and heat was building in me, in increments. Like shattered blocks put together wrong.  
  I screwed my eyes shut against the image of tentacles pushing me to my climax, but the pure physical feeling of it made me cry out as the two tentacles pulsed as one. I came - hard. My orgasm was torn from me in a burst of white and fire in my veins.

  _Salt-water again,_ I thought as the thinner of the two organs slipped up my body to worm its way into my mouth.

  The singing in the static began to rise once more, and I felt something break.

 

* * *

 

 

  My eyes flew open just as Asce came through the doorway, arms full. Sweat dripped into my eyes and my breathing came in deep, ragged drags. Asce took one look at me and instantly placed the bundle he held on the floor, rushing to me in a flurry of neat gloves and a long overcoat. I tried to speak but the blond shushed me as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it firmly against my nose.

  Confusion made my head swim for a brief moment - then Asce pulled the cloth from me, eyes shining with worry. I glanced at the handkerchief in his hand and immediately understood his expression as I brought a shaky hand to my top lip. The blood there, thick and hot, was already drying.

 

* * *

 

 

  Asce forced me to see a doctor in the morning.

  He had insisted that call one that night, but I managed to convince him that I felt much too tired to deal with the inevitable questions that would accompany a doctor's visit. Reluctantly, Asce had conceded (with his usual pout when things did not go his way) with my promise to eat the soup he had brought in for me and get more sleep.

  Truth be told, I was not particularly eager to close my eyes again but when Asce promised to be beside me the entire time, I found that I could not tell him as much. His brow was constantly creased with worry that night, and while this pleased me in many ways, it also made me worry for him. I reassured him that this would pass in a few days at most. Asce simply shook his head, kissed my forehead, and tended to me until I slipped into a dreamless rest.

  When I woke, Asce was lying beside me, half-undressed like he was too tired to finish his nightly routine. There was a folded hand-towel on my forehead and my roommate's soft snores punctured the still morning air.

  I had wanted him to sleep. It was criminal to disturb a sleeping face as handsome as his - especially when I knew that he had worn himself out to take care of me. But he seemed too fine-tuned to my movements and his eyes fluttered open when I lifted my arm to rub a hand over my face. I smiled and he returned it, relieved.  
  I was relieved myself to find that the same dizziness and light-headiness from yesterday had dissipated, leaving me mostly refreshed. I did not feel entirely well, but I felt better. Much better.

  Still, Asce fussed constantly. He ran a hot bath for me (which he laughingly told that he would not join so there was no point in asking), set out a hearty breakfast with croissants, fruit and coffee, and refused to let me out of the room without dressing warmly.  
  As soon as we had finished, Asce promptly took my arm and walked me to the university's own infirmary. The proximity of his body against mine flustered me and I worried about the stares we were bound to receive as we made our way across the university grounds. To my pleasant surprise, however, the only things directed towards us were curious glances and a few greetings from our respective friends.   
  One classmate that I recognised vaguely smiled when she saw us and my charismatic companion was the one to return it. I suppose I should not have been so taken aback. There are stranger things here, after all.

 

* * *

 

 

  Strangely enough my diagnosis was less than interesting.

  Indeed you could say that it was…unhelpful.

  There was nothing wrong with me.

  While I had mentioned that I currently felt as fit as a fiddle, I could not deny that my condition the previous day was rather worrisome. I even told the doctor that I had been plagued by peculiar dreams, though I kept the details of those to myself. He had simply shaken his head and warned me of overworking.

  The stress of my lessons, he said, were most likely the cause of the abrupt nosebleed and nightmares. However, he told Asce quite firmly that should I show any of these symptoms again, he was to take me down for another check-up. Asce had agreed seriously and I fought against the grin threatening to break across my face as we began our walk back to our dorm.

  I proved to be unsuccessful when the blond turned to face me and playfully slapped my back.

  "Stop grinning, you fool," he ordered. "I really am worried about you." But he all too happily threw his arms around my neck when I wrapped an arm around his waist and planted a hard kiss on his eager mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

  The memory gaps began two months later.

  At first, I did not understand what was happening. I assumed that I had simply let my mind wander and did not realise that I had walked all the way to the library with a stack of overdue books in my arms. I had shrugged, returned the books, and then continued my daily routine without a hitch. In fact, I had almost forgotten it had happened. I suppose I would have completely if it hadn't happened again.

  The second time, I found myself in Professor Curwin's office.

  While I had not been avoiding the man, we had not spoken alone since the incident in his office two months prior. We still had our lunches and our discussions but now they took place around other professors or students. I caught myself shying away from his intense gazes and he avoided any skin contact, casual or accidental. Still, I missed the easiness our relationship used to have.

  I could not remember leaving the lecture hall nor could I remember parting from my friends, and making my way to the cold office where Prof. Curwin sat.

  Had I knocked or simply walked in? Did I even have something to speak to him about? It was certainly a strange experience coming into myself, already awake and in mid-conversation. Prof. Curwin seemed to be waiting for an answer from me and I could only stare at him mutely as I tried to process what was happening. When I failed to respond to his question, Professor Curwin stood up from behind his desk. His dark eyes were on me, an unreadable look flickering across his face.

  It was gone so fast. Perhaps I only imagined it.

  "Are you alright?"

  I could only nod my head. There was no fog - no grogginess, only confusion. "Yes, I - I'm alright. I'm very sorry, sir. I don't know what's come over me." I tried to laugh but it sounded flat. Strange. Perhaps I was only tired, but my body felt well rested. "What was it you were saying?"

  Prof. Curwin perched himself on the edge of the desk, arms folded across his broad chest. Behind his head, the sunlight was beginning to wane and unease began to crawl through my skin. The last class that I could remember - which was also my last class for the day - had ended at noon. How long had I been here? The professor eyed me for a moment, like he was deciding his next words carefully.

  "I was asking how often these gaps in your memory occurred. You were about to tell me," he smiled slightly and I returned it, despite myself. I suppose there was no true mystery about my coming here as I always had when there were things concerning me. I recalled my decision to forget what had happened and I relaxed into the armchair I had often sat in before. The professor and I were friends, if nothing else, and his friendship was not something I wished to lose.

  "This is only the second memory gap I've experience," my thumb smoothed the coarse fabric of the armrest. Professor Curwin shifted in his spot.

  "And this began with your dreams?"

  I flushed. I had no recollection of telling the man of my dreams. But if I had mentioned any specifics, there was no sign on his face so I nodded in agreement. "Yes. Of the ocean. It's always dark but it's as if I can still see things. Like when a child hides under a sheet, pretending to be a ghost. You can't see their face or any distinguishing features but you can still see their outline and you know they're there." I paused. "Have I already mentioned this?"

  "No, you haven't," Prof. Curwin held a palm out in a gesture to continue. "Only that you've been having strange, vivid dreams. Please, go on."

  "Well, there's nothing really else to say. I mean," I waved a hand dismissively and made sure to keep my face void of any telling signs. "I can't seem to remember any details about what actually happens."

  "Nothing at all," he repeated. It did not sound like a question.

  My eyes flicked down to where my fingers were toying with the slightly frayed edges of the chair before meeting his steady gaze once again. I shrugged. "Nothing."

  "I see. Well, I am sorry, Simon. There's not much I can do for you," Prof. Curwin's black eyes softened and he leaned forward to clap me on shoulder briefly before settling back down to rest on his desk. He looked genuinely apologetic. "But if you ever do need to talk again, I am here for you."

  "Thank you, Professor. That's all I can really ask for."

  We spoke for some time longer, of lighter things and I was glad for it, but when I became aware of the darkening sky I excused myself. Asce would be back soon and we would both be hungry for dinner. Professor Curwin waved away my apology for keeping him so long after his working day was over. He said, "Work is never truly over for me, you know." And we both laughed as I stood to leave.

  "Simon," he called as I reached for the office door's handle. "Be careful, yes?"

  "Of course," I stopped and turned to smile at him. His face was already shadowed by the heaviness of evening and thick clouds overhead.

  I wish I had known what he meant, then.

 

* * *

 

 

  I was standing in knee-deep water - I could feel the cold slate of waves gently nudging at my bare knees. Like always, it was oppressively black and there was movement flickering in my peripherals.

  When I turned my head however, there was nothing.

  Another dream, then.

 

  _Simon._

 

* * *

 

 

  When I blinked the sleep from my eyes, I did not recognise my surroundings.  
  There was a lamp in my left hand and I was barefoot.

  I was also alone - no Asce and certainly no bed. Asce, I knew, had left the room before I fell into what was supposed to be a short nap. We were both tired, but he had volunteered to walk and see if the cafeteria would let him bring back dinner. If not, then we would walk down to Wakefield's together.

  We had bathed briefly, with Asce between my legs and my hand on his erection. He had been tense, stressed with an upcoming exam, and he was desperate for touch and release. Then he had ridden me in the tub, hard and fast, until our climax peaked in blinding white. I could still see his damp hair plastered over his eyes and the way our breath steamed between us. Asce's thighs were as soft as cream beneath my hands and I remember whispering his name like a prayer.

  The corridor, I could see when I raised the lantern to my face, was stone. Old stone covered in moss and slick with some strange substance. It seemed to shimmer the closer I held the light against it. Aside from these two things, the walls were unadorned. There were no old paintings as there were in the main university building's hallways. No lamps, no windows, no mirrors or flags. I reached out a hand to touch the slimy surface of the stone and shivered. It was as hot as blood and stuck to my skin like a spider-web.

  I could not see what lay ahead of me nor could I tell what was behind me. The lantern, though shining strongly, still seemed dull in the dark, dank air of the corridor. Light was not welcome here.

  And there was something else. I could hear it: a high-pitched chittering sound, like rats or insects just beyond, scrapping and scurrying over the stone walls and floor. I imagined that they too were covered in the same slick film of slime and shuddered violently at the thought. It was time to leave. Surely nothing good could have resulted in my person staying there any longer.

  There was one dilemma, however.

  I could not remember the direction of the exit.

  I bit my lip, hopeful that the pain would help to clear my mind. A slow buzz had begun at the back of it and I feared that the onslaught of a migraine here would leave me stranded without anyone knowing where I was. For the life of me, I could not remember if the direction I had been facing lead deeper into wherever this place was or if I was heading back out. A wrong choice here had unpredictable, and most likely undesirable, consequences. And the chittering of many small things was still audible.

  Still, I knew that I could not stay here. If the only way to go was forward, then forward would be the way to go. I was hardly one to wait around for my fate anyhow, and my experiences from abroad served to strengthen my resolve. I had taken only one step in the direction I had been facing when suddenly, something wrapped itself around my wrist and pulled.


	4. Of Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to tunnelOFdawn, deekee, c0c0ly, and RuleBreakingMormon for the comments! And a thank you to everyone who's left a kudos - ya'll rock. The conclusion to 'The Secret of Engelsburg' will be coming soon; thanks for sticking around, folks.
> 
> -

  The force of the tug sent me sprawling backwards and I slammed into something hard, air rushing out of my lungs.

  Panic shot through my veins, adrenaline sparking. With surprising ease, I tore my wrist free from the bruising grip and I spun around so quickly my feet almost slipped on a patch of moss. The lantern in my hand swung dangerously for some long seconds before coming to an unease halt. It was only then, when the light finally pushed back a small patch of darkness that I saw finally who had grabbed my wrist.

  "Professor?" I choked.

  "Simon," was his only response.

  He looked at me appraisingly, just the slightest hint of a frown at the corner of his lips. The disapproval on his face was obvious. Though I knew my current predicament wasn't really my fault, it took a good portion of my willpower not to hunch my shoulders in guilt. The older man, I could see in the dim light of my lantern, was clad in cotton pyjama pants the colour of dark wine and a white, sleeveless undershirt that stretched tight against his chest. Barefoot and mussed. I assumed that he'd been woken up.

  "What are you doing out here?"

  The deep rumble of his voice, thick with sleep, made me jump. I stared up at him, watching him reach up to rub the stubble on his cheek. Black eyes narrowed. I looked away. "I don't - Well, I suppose I woke up here," I scratched my hip nervously. "Or maybe I was awake the whole time and I don't remember. I'm sorry Professor, but I don't even know where this is."

  "Another one of your memory gaps?"

  "Yes. Maybe."

  Professor Curwin sighed. It sounded sympathetic. "Then that's hardly your fault. But," and his frown deepened. I could see the lines of concentration on his forehead. "How in God's name did you get down here?"

_Down?_

  I shrugged helplessly in reply but the professor did not seem to expect a real answer from me anyhow. In fact, he was hardly looking at me now, peering instead into the darkness behind me. It was only then that I realised with a strange sickening sensation in my stomach that the sounds from beyond had ceased abruptly. Nothing, save for our breathing.   
  Silent. As if they had never been there.

  "We should go." Professor Curwin dragged his eyes back to my face and I could only bring myself to nod as he began to walk in the opposite direction of where I had been heading. I shivered.

  I do not know how long we walked, side by side, without speaking. I held the lantern before us, shying away from the walls whenever I accidentally brushed too close. For some reason, Professor Curwin did not possess his own light source but he walked with confidence. And, I noticed, he did not seem to be fazed by the substance on the walls and the damp, mossy stones beneath our bare feet.

  Minutes passed, long and dragging, until I finally decided to ask the question that had been weighing on my mind since he found me in this strange corridor.

  "Professor," I began and took in a breath. My voice sounded so small. Professor Curwin's pace did not slow though he did tilt his head in my direction. He was listening. "How did you know where I was?"

  I almost asked him if Asce had gone to him, to let him know that I was missing but I stopped myself. How would Asce know to go this man? It was a silly thought.

  Professor Curwin shook his head. "I didn't know. Not exactly." He hesitated. Then: "You could say I had a premonition of sorts."

  "A premonition?"

  "Of sorts," Prof. Curwin glanced over his shoulder and I fought against the urge to do the same.

_There is nothing there, Simon. Nothing._

  "I suppose I can't really explain it. I just knew that something was wrong." A low chuckle that fell flat between the two of us. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Oh." I swayed, suddenly feeling lightheaded, but I waved away the look of concern that Professor Curwin gave me. "No. Not ridiculous."

  And I believed that. Surely, if he felt that there was something wrong - here, in this place I had never seen before - then perhaps I truly was about to stumble into some sort of trouble. Whatever trouble that might have been, I decided, was probably the sort I would benefit from not thinking about. Ever.

  It took me a few seconds to realise that Prof. Curwin was speaking again.

  "Simon, I can't even begin to imagine how you managed to get yourself in this place," he gestured to the stone walls and the high, arching ceiling above us. "These hidden tunnels are supposed to be completely - well, hidden. Boarded up. How in the nine hells did you even find one?"

  "Hidden? You don't mean-"

  "Yes." The professor did not continue, his lips pressing together tightly but that was enough. Realisation made my eyes widen and Professor Curwin sighed (perhaps I had missed his point).

  But this - this was one of the hidden passageways that the students often tittered about and sometimes even actively sought? Wondering and daydreaming about being the first to discover what lay in the catacombs underneath the university. I had been one of those students, after all.

  And now here I was, in one of those tunnels. I gave myself a mental kick. How did the idea never cross my mind? Where else could I have possibly been? As these thoughts darted about in my head, Professor Curwin placed a firm hand on the small of my back and stopped walking. My feet slowed and I blinked up at him through the lantern's glow.

  "What is it?"

  "Nothing, really." He smiled, white teeth gleaming. His hand remained on my back as he began to move again and I followed quickly. "There's a turn here. You just seemed so distracted; I didn't want you to run into the wall."

  I laughed as we rounded the corner. Strangely, the darkness here seemed to lift a little, and with it, so did my spirits. "Ah, yes. Thank you."

  "You weren't thinking about bragging to all your friends about this, were you?"

  "About finding myself lost and scared in the dark? No, I wouldn't dare share this with anyone," and it was the truth, mostly. I did want to tell my classmates of the find, but if Professor Curwin wanted me to keep my peace, then I would do so. Still, I supposed that I could tell Asce. I imagined him pacing in our room, wondering where I had gone off too, and I immediately wished that I could tell him that I was alright. "Professor, my roommate -"

  "You can tell him that you went sleepwalking around the halls and I happened to stumble across you," Prof. Curwin said without missing a beat. "I sleep on campus, after all."

  "Right." At least that explained the sleepwear. "Do any of the other professors? Live here, I mean."

  "A few, but not many. It is more convenient than anything else," Prof. Curwin and I made another turn and I revelled in the man's ease at navigating our way out. Then I wondered just how often he wandered these tunnels that were supposedly out-of-bounds. "A man married to his job - is there a better place for me to be?"

  "As long as you're comfortable, I can't imagine why you shouldn't stay here." I smiled, though his eyes were still focused on the path ahead of us. I wanted to ask how well he knew these paths, but again, I decided against it. I suspected I would not receive a clear answer so I asked him about other inconsequential things, like his classes for the week and the lesson plan for tomorrow. I did not ask why he hadn't married. There were other mysteries to ponder about.

 

* * *

 

 

  When we finally stepped out of the dark, winding corridors, we found ourselves outside of the university building and just a few hundred metres from the forest outside my dorm building. I gawked, goosebumps prickling down my forearms in the cold air of early morning. Shivered. My arms embraced my waist to try and ward off the chill.

  The sun was barely up, the sky still grey-blue with sparse clouds. Birds made shrill sounds from the trees and a few burst out from the canopies with mournful caws as they began to circle overhead. All around me, I could see huge boulders and thickets that obscured the small clearing from any students wandering off the trails. Bricks and some broken pieces of wood were scattered about my feet, like someone had smashed their way out of the blocked tunnels with a sledgehammer and an extremely powerful arm.

  I twisted around to peer behind me, and from my peripherals, I could see Professor Curwin mimic me. The gaping hole that we had slipped through one at a time sat there like a wound. Prof. Curwin frowned.

  "It's strange," he muttered but said no more. I only nodded.

  We studied the smashed bits of cement and brick pieces, turning them over with our feet or crouching down in the dirt and leaves to inspect them in our hands. It was only when I bent to toss a plank of wood to the side did I gasp and take a step back. In an instant, Prof. Curwin was beside me, his palm splayed on my lower back to steady me as I stumbled over a loose bit of stone.

  "What is it, Simon?"

  "That piece of wood I just touched," I stepped away from Professor Curwin to inspect the plank again. "It's covered in…well, it's covered in the same slime that was on the walls of the tunnel." I bit my lip. "I don't suppose you know what it is." _And what it might mean._

  The professor's beat of silence was answer enough, though he was quick to try and cover it with an all too obvious cough. "I doubt it's really anything. Look here," he waved me closer. "See? It's covered in moss too, like the walls."

  "Of course." Moss. I turned away from Prof. Curwin and briefly closed my eyes. Who was he trying to fool? It was so painfully apparent that he was hiding something from me. The only mystery was what. Something strange was happening - the memory gaps, the walls, the tunnels, the dreams, the static - but what was it? I shivered again and Professor Curwin stood.

  "Simon," he said gently. "Let's go back inside."

 

* * *

 

 

  "There you are! My God, Simon-"

  Asce leapt off the bed just as I stepped into the dorm room, wide-eyed and frantic, and still clad in surprisingly conservative pyjamas that looked slightly too big for him. He darted across the carpet, hands already reaching for me - only to have him stop a step away. I blinked and Asce shuffled in his spot, seemingly embarrassed.

  Then I remembered that Professor Curwin was standing in the hallway, directly behind me. He cocked his head towards Asce in greeting. I moved to the side to let the man in.

  "Professor, this is Asce Linden. My roommate," I gestured to the blond who ducked his head politely and offered a smile that the professor returned. "And Asce, this is Professor Jules Curwin. He…found me."

  Both eyebrows shot up. "Found you? Where?"

  Prof. Curwin answered. "He was wandering about the teacher's dorms," he shook his head. "A little ways from the main building so you can imagine my surprise when I found him there."

  "Imagine my surprise," I joked and to my relief, Asce gave a breathy laugh.

  "I was so worried about you." He managed to make it sound nonchalant. I grinned.

  "Apologies, Mr. Linden."

  Asce smiled softly, eyes bright. Then he turned away from me to extend a hand towards Prof. Curwin who shook it. "Thank you. For bringing him back."

  "Mr. Linden-"

  "Asce, please."

  Professor Curwin glanced at me, only briefly, as I took a seat on the edge of my bed, watching the two men. "Asce." He cleared his throat. "I assume you know of Simon's memory gaps. Does he have a tendency to sleepwalk?"

  Asce shook his head. "No, not that I know of. This is the first time something like this has ever happened."

  But it would not be the last.

 

* * *

 

 

  Cold water.

  Inky darkness.

  Stone corridors.

  _Simon._

  I gasped, eyes flying open as my hands clutched at my throat. A hacking cough tore out of me, rattling my chest, bringing tears to my eyes. There was water in my lungs. I could feel it clogging my airways and I wheezed, trying to clear them. By God - had I been drowning? Sharp salt-water stung my nose, stained my tongue. The grain of rocks scrapped at my naked thighs. I could barely see through my lashes but I already figured where I was: in the dark chambers of my dreams.

  A shiver ran through me, prickling my skin. I licked my lips nervously. I was alone in the blackness but for how long, I did not know. I thought perhaps I did not want to know, but I quickly learnt that waiting was much more harrowing. Besides, I was not truly alone. Not entirely. As always, I could see them - the flickering, heaving things in my peripherals. Gigantic silent shapes that pushed against the fabric of reality, making their presence known to me. They were not from this place, this I felt with conviction.

  I could not stop shaking.

  What were these dreams? These nightmarish visions? Even when I was young, I was hardly subject to such things. Yes, I had had an active imagination though no more than the average child - I did not believe in vampires and werewolves, in fairy folk nor in Santa Claus. My parents, though strict, were good to me. My travels across the world revealed wonderful sights, offered me wisdom and knowledge I would not have otherwise gained if I had decided to stay back in my hometown as my mother had wanted. Trauma had not done this to me.

  No, perhaps I did know where these dreams came from.

  Or at least, I had an inkling.

  Surely, all of this had to do with Engelsburg University itself. Surely. There was no other explanation, was there? None of this started until I came here. Was it the building? I remembered the burn on my palms from Prof. Curwin's office. It could have been the stress of my lessons – or the lessons themselves. Heathen gods and blood rituals, and stories of daemonic possessions: heavy, disturbing things that must have begun to weigh on my mind. Fascinating, yes. But there was a reason why few decided to pursue these studies. _Neththeia the Queen of a Thousand Hells, Ach'ash the Devourer, Osuq'i of the Higher Realms_. Gods of expired civilisations, their statues and altars found buried or underwater, levelled by earthquakes or tsunamis. Gods that demanded strange things from their peoples. Terrible things. Gods that had been banished to realities outside of our own, seeking to return with vengeance on the race that thought to shun them.

  Did I believe in any of it though? Maybe, to a degree.

  Maybe I had always seen these dark things at the edge of my conscience.

  Perhaps they had always been waiting.

  When the touch came, gentle as a kiss, I looked up. But as always, I could see nothing clearly.

  Only murky shadows.

  Not that it mattered. It was here, whatever it was, and I was tired. There was very little fight in me, though a small, tittering voice at the back of my mind told me that perhaps I did not want to fight. I squashed the thought.

  A long limb tangled around my leg, inching up my thigh with its nipping suckers and a heat bordering on unbearable. Another thinner tentacle twined itself with the fingers on my left hand, caressing my knuckles. A third stroked up my bare chest to cup my cheek.

  It took me far too long to realise whatever was touching my face was not a tentacle but in fact, a hand. I let out a short scream and jolted backwards, realising with a strange sort of panic that the sound did not fade into the abyss as it had previously and instead echoed loudly off walls that I could not see. For the first time, I was not alone here and for some reason, this was not a comfort. The tentacle around my leg tightened painfully.

  "Simon. It's me."

  I froze, a cold creeping dread seeping through every pore, into every fibre of my being.

  _Simon. It's me._

  That voice.

  I would know it anywhere.

 

* * *

 

 

  The hand pulled away from me for a moment and I could hear the rustle of fabric. The sound of a match being struck. The hiss of a flame.

  Then there was a brief, almost blinding, flash of light as a lamp was lit, forcing me to shield my eyes with my arm. I had been in darkness for so long that it felt as if I was staring into the sun. When I finally managed to blink the spots from my eyes, I was almost afraid to look up and meet the intense gaze that I could feel on my face.

  I swallowed; breathed the seat-salt air sharply through my nose.

  And stared into the face of Asce Linden.

  But it was not Asce Linden. Not truly. It could not have been for there was something so inherently wrong about him that I was certain that this man before me was a strange caricature conjured up by a stressed mind. That must be why he looked so strange, so unlike Asce, but unmistakably him. It was as if everything was just slightly off by millimetres.

  I had dreamt of Asce before, of course. Wonderful dreams. But I had never dreamt of him here; here in this place where I had felt so alone and afraid, even though I longed for his company and his touch, and bright laugh that could have chased away the darkest of night-terrors.

  I let out a shaky breath, peering up from my spot in waist-deep waters. The flame threw light over Asce's weirdly sharp and off-set features, illuminating too wide blue eyes and plump lips that crooked up in a peculiar smile. His pale skin was shining, blond hair a hazy halo. He was clad in a fashionable suit I’d never seen him wear. It was archaic in its design and it clung to his body unfamiliarly. I felt myself relax – albeit marginally- as I recalled that the last time I had seen Asce, he was still in pyjamas and snoring away.

  It took me a long minute to tear my gaze away from my roommate and I noticed that the lamp was much, much brighter than it should have been. The light tore through the thick curtain of darkness like a raking claw, chasing away the creeping blackness at the corners of my sight, brightening the space I was in.

  Like everything else, it did not look right. It was as if the light was being thrown wildly, erratically. Bouncing off surfaces in a way that was impossible, throwing shadows in places and angles where they did not belong.

  But now I could see, finally, where I was. Huge walls made of stone walls loomed over me, covered in patches of moss and barnacles. It was a circular space - a room, I suppose, but it seemed too large to be called such. A cave maybe. A man-made one. In the walls were arched tunnels with no visible end and no light from within.

  There were rows upon rows of them, reaching up as high as the ceiling. Steps and ramps seemed to be carved out of the wall-face, winding upwards like a spiral to provide access to each of these arches. I could see, beside them, protruding metal disk that curved up slightly to hold oil and fire.

  Where I sat was at the edge of large, round pool filled with smooth pebbles and stones that you would find in a riverbed. The water itself was so clear that if it were not for the ripples, I would have mistaken it for glass.

  And almost everything, including myself, was covered in the same viscous substance that I had seen in the hidden tunnels. The only exception was Asce, who crouched in the water between my legs, the bottom half of his neat trousers soaked.

  Then I saw the tentacles tangled around me and I let out another short scream. Though in all honesty, I felt as if I should have expected the sight.

  The flexible appendages looked almost gelatinous, pulsing and twitching, and the surface was of a grayish-violet mottled with patches of a very dark blue. Beneath its translucent skin, I could see black blood pumping through it like life. The thinner of the two tentacles touching me was approximately the size of my wrist, its tapered tip plucking at my skin. The thickest was at least as wide as my leg and much, much longer. Fear was making my breathing haggard - I was so afraid to follow its length.

  To see what could possible possess such things.

  "Hello, Simon." Asce said.

  I winced. His voice was like sandpaper on wood but amplified. Rasping and harsh. The sweet tone was a mockery.

  "Asce." A small pause. I considered my next words carefully. "You're here."

  Those lips that I had kissed so many times before pulled wide in a grin and my breath caught in my throat. His teeth, ever white, were no longer straight and perfect. Instead, I was greeted by the sight of pointed, jagged things that seemed crammed into the cavern of his mouth. Rows of teeth lined with barbs that looked as if it could rend the very flesh from my bones.

  And his tongue - gods!

  His tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his lips but it was not a tongue at all. It was a tentacle, very much like the ones wrapped about me, only smaller. The muscle undulated wildly in my direction for a second before slithering back into Asce.

  "Yes," he said. "I'm here. Always."

  Hysteria peaked in my chest and my scalp prickled wildly as I gasped and tried to lurch backwards, but the thing still wrapped around my thigh refused to let me get very far at all. I wanted to scream again but before I could, the creature who I was now sure was definitely not Asce reached out to place his palm over my mouth.

  He - it - smiled again, this time with its mouth closed, and stood to its feet silently. I could only watch warily until he moved to my side and held out a hand in a grand gesture towards the centre of the great pool that I sat in.

  Instinctively, my gaze followed the line of his arm and I realised that the thing with Asce's face wanted me to look at something. I turned my head, eyes catching the length of the tentacles until I finally reached the centre of the pool. It seemed to decline sharply just approximately a hundred metres from where I was.

  Then I saw it.

  The thing that the tentacles were attached to sat half-hidden in the odd shadows cast by the wild light - a terrifying sight to behold. It was a gigantic, flabby thing made of blubber and soft, oozing flesh that excreted some sort of clear slime from its pores. The skin was a deep, deep purple, almost black, except for when it gave way to its tentacles, much too many to be an octopus but most definitely not a squid.

  Its shape was all wrong, as if a child had simply taken a piece of clay and torn it to pieces before lumping it together with no sense of purpose, and it had more than two eyes. More than I could count, all different sizes, crammed into its body. They rolled about, focusing on nothing and on everything at once. Each eye opened and closed independently. Great orbs of green, blue, brown and hazel. Almost human, but lit bright with ancient knowledge from since before the time of man.

  A horizontal mouth ran down its middle like a gash, opening and closing with no rhythm, teeth sharp and jagged like not-Asce. It made no sound - no real sound - save for the squelch of its tentacles that writhed above it in vile exaltation. I stared at the heaving mass with roiling horror and I instinctively flinched away from it, my whole body frozen. What was the travesty of nature - if it was, indeed, from this natural world at all? A low moan of terror and helplessness escaped me and for a moment, it was if I would be ill. My stomach heaved sickeningly and I felt a hand stroke the black curls of hair from my face.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake -_

  I yelped as two tentacles lashed out; burning, pulsating things that seemed to brand the skin of my ankles as they took hold, one on each. Then with the same startling abruptness, they spread my legs, making me cry out again. Another two curled around my wrists and two more hoisted me up by my biceps without ceremony. It happened all so fast that I could not even remember when they moved. Water sluiced off me as I was suspended, naked and spread-eagled, and I heard an obvious pleased hum from somewhere beside me. Sharp nails that felt more like claws scratch a line on my hip and I felt blood well before slipping down my leg into the water with barely audible _plips_. Humiliation coiled around my chest, making me flush, and I struggled hard to free myself from my restraints to no avail.

  I think that I said something, maybe shouted. Perhaps I was demanding my release or asking why this was happening to me, but I cannot remember. The monster did not respond and the thing that was not Asce waited quietly until my voice turned hoarse and my violent struggling ceased to be little more than weak tugging. I could feel tears soaking my face, the salt of it on my tongue. I do not know when I had started crying but my chest heaved with exertion. The tentacles spread me a little further, to the point of pain.

  It was only then that I understood, with a horrible clarity, that this was no dream.

  I could do little more than twitch and groan. More of the elongated organs began to crawl up the length of my body with the same curiosity they had in my last dream, leaving behind hot slime and bruising kisses from their suckers. They caressed the inside of my thighs, traced circles on my hips. One tentacle, squirming and heavy, nudged at my balls and made me hiss. I did not want to look upon the creature in the pool but when I tried to close my eyes against it, a sharp bite on my ankle made me shout and my lids flew open. The thing made a strange, rumbling noise - the first sound I had heard from it, and I winced as the beginnings of a migraine throbbed at my temples.

  Static was building in my scalp, a buzzing white screen that made me moan in pain. My ankle was throbbing and I could feel more blood flowing from the fresh wound and into the water. Fresh tears sprung to my eyes and I sniffed, trying to blink them back. When my sight finally cleared I saw the thing that wore Asce's face standing in front of me, red on his mouth and his tentacle-tongue lapping away at the stickiness on his skin with obvious relish. I tried to arch my body away but the thing looked up, tilted his head to the side and smiled his terrible smile.

  "Oh Simon," the creature that was not Asce traced a slender finger down my cheek. Tilted my head to the side. "You're so pretty, Simon. Did you know that?"

  His tongue licked a wet streak where the tears had begun to dry and ground his hips hard against mine. Despite myself, I choked out a moan and Asce smiled lovingly. My body reacted to him as it always did, even though somewhere at the back of my mind, I could still comprehend that this could not possibly be my Asce Linden.

  There was no way the sweet, blond Asce was this sharp-faced thing with too many teeth and nails that tapered off into sharp points.

  My breathing hitched and I shuddered violently before I tried to force words out from my parched

  "Who…What are you?"

  A flash of amusement. "Why, Simon. It's me, love." The pressure of another body against mine. A lick trailing up my neck to my jaw. I shuddered again as tiny suckers nipped at the skin there. "Your Asce."

  "No," I croaked. "No."

  "Who else would I be?" His voice was no longer sandpaper, but honey and milk. The same sweet lilt he had when he lied down beside me on my bed and told me about his day. I hesitated, just for the merest second, but it was enough. Something in me shifted.

  Doubt began to creep through my heart, making me bite the inside of my cheek. Asce laughed his bright laugh that charmed me from the first time we met and touched a burning hand to my waist. My lashes fluttered but I did not dare close my eyes again.

  "Asce," my voice came out as a whisper and I received a soft crooning sound that made me ache. "Asce."

  "Yes, love." Large eyes blinked up at me, shining with something I could not quite read. "You're in quite the predicament, aren't you?"

  I whimpered and nails dug into my skin. "Asce, where am I? Why is this - why is this happening?" I swallowed. "Why are you…"

  "Oh, sweetheart. I want to answer all those questions for you. I do. Truly." Asce reached up to cup my face with both his hands and I could not stop the small groan when he pressed against me, even as more tentacles squirmed between us, massaging my chest. "But you're not even supposed to be down here. Yet." He kissed me gently and I crooked my head towards him, even as he pulled back. Then he added as if an afterthought: "But here you are. You must really love me, Simon."

  "What? What do you - ah!" A tentacle groped at my soft cock and Asce gave a murmur of approval as he stepped back further to give it room. I panted, trying to ignore the intense heat that suddenly spiked in my lower abdomen. As if encouraged, the tentacle began to wrap around the shaft earnestly and tugged. I barely suppressed a mewl; disgust and pleasure fighting for dominance within me. "What do you mean? Asce, please. Give me something."

  "Well…"

  "Please."

  Asce gave an exaggerated sigh but I saw the way his eyes darted towards the abomination, still sitting in the half-shadows. A strange chittering burst from it, resonating off the walls. The same sound I heard in the tunnels. I had imagined it was rats or cockroaches but it turned to be something worse. I winced. "Alright. I can…yes, I can tell you where you are." He paused. "Though I honestly thought you would have already figured it out yourself, Simon."

  The tentacle around my cock squirmed, the tip curling almost coyly around the sensitive head. My hips jerked forward on their own accord and inhaled sharply.  
  I was getting hard.

  "You've found it, love."

  "Wh-?" Focusing was becoming difficult. The tentacle ran its thinnest part over my slit and I arched my back, a spark of lightning shooting through me as I groaned.

  "The secret beneath Engelsburg."

  "You mean…the catacombs," I breathed. Asce smiled, splaying a hand on my lower stomach, tangling the curling hair there with doubly-jointed fingers. "How did I get here?"

  "The same way you got in through the tunnels, I suspect. Jules hasn't gotten around to closing that hole back up yet."

  I blinked rapidly. For a long moment I could not process who he was speaking of.

  Then: "Jules? Jules Curwin?"

  A stormy look crossed Asce's face. It was so sudden I flinched away from him. He ran his knuckled under my chin reassuringly, but the expression never left him. "Yes. Jules Curwin. He was getting in my way again - too clever for his own good."

  "But - _ah_ \- Asce, you only met him," I stifled a groan. "What, not even a full day ago?"

  It was as if he did not hear me. His upper lip curled in contempt and the expression clashed severely with his light voice. "He's been so careful, making sure no one accidentally wandered down here, taking it upon himself to keep us down here." As if in response, the tentacle monster let out a low rumble. I felt it more than I heard. The constant static in my head suddenly spiked, dizzying me. "I don't think he knew we wanted you, of course. You’ve got black in your blood too."

  "Asce…"

  "Perhaps he really does love you. He certainly feels something for you, Simon. Jules even managed to get the school board to close up all the entrances to this place." He took in a deep breath and the tentacles around me tightened possessively. I moaned. "Well, it almost worked. You did find yourself down here, after all." Asce winked. "It looks like you'll have to ride this one out. But don't worry; we'll take care of you." Something crooned in my ear but there was nothing there.

  Asce kissed my collarbone. "We love you, Simon. We wouldn't hurt you. You love us, don't you, Simon?” A bite sunk into my shoulder. “You love _me_."

  By now I was so hard it was almost painful. The tentacle around my cock had continued to stroke me with slow deliberate movements, toying with my slit. It dipped in at one point, earning a high cry. Every single one of my nerves was alight and I sobbed when a tentacle traced my perineum almost idly. Asce leaned in so close that I could smell his breath. It was like the stench of the ocean depths; of salt and whale bones.

  "Sorry, love. But we're getting a bit impatient now." Sharp teeth caught my bottom lip and the skin split. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth and my eyes widened in panic until Asce sucked it from me, making soft sounds of pleasure. "You'll be good, won't you?"

  A tentacle as thick as a vine and with a blunt tip wove through the water quickly. So quickly and quietly that I would have missed it if Asce let his head fall back and sighed as the thing rubbed against his crotch, the bulge in his trousers growing prominent. The thing was covered in slime like the others and it left a stain. I could not tear my eyes away, licking my lips when Asce moaned in that same way I knew so well. Yet simultaneously, an ugly sort of jealousy reared its head within me. The intimacy of the scene almost made me try and struggle again.

  When the blond's eyes closed briefly, the tentacle pulled away from him, and Asce made a displeased sound. The organ began to move again, towards me this time and I could hear my chest rattling with nervousness. It slipped between my trembling legs. Slid its length against the cleft between my ass cheeks in a way that was much more deliberate than the other tentacles, and began to move. It was hot as blood and throbbing, seemingly in time with my heartbeat.

  When it began to nudge at my puckered hole, I shuddered and strained to pull away with as much force as I could. The tentacle seemed to hesitate, as if curious by my reaction. Then it proceeded to push again. Fear made me cold.

  "No, wait please, I - I've never- _ohhhh_."

  I cried out in distress at first, then louder again in pain as it finally pushed past the ring of muscle despite my pleas. "Oh, oh gods…"

  A hard sob escaped me as I tried to hold back a howl. The burn, the tearing was just too much. Too much for me at once. I writhed, tears once again trailing down my cheeks to my chin. "Please, please, please…"

  The tentacle did not heed me and pushed deeper into my ass. Even with all the slime lubricating me, the lack of preparation made the first hard thrust made me sob again. I felt like I was being ripped in two and not even Asce's hands - suddenly caressing my sides as he cooed encouragements I could not quite understand - could ease the harsh pain as it peaked. I let out a short wail. A few more tentacles wrapped around me in what almost felt like comfort but the tentacle piercing me did not cease.

  "Please don't do this -!" The startled grunt that fell from my lips made my face burn with embarrassment.

  "Simon." It was Asce who answered me. "Relax, love. Let it in-" Static erupted in my head and I arched my back, screaming.

  Then it subsided as suddenly as it came and I gave a low groan. My body fell limp as the sensation of an ice-pick being driven through my ear faded. The tentacle continued its push into me, thrusting in increments and I could not help but notice that pain was now at least tolerable.

  The organ slid higher into my rectum and I whimpered weakly, my head dropping to my chest. To my horror, I realised that the tiny, terrified sounds coming from me were slowly ending in pitched whines. Somewhere at the back of me, I knew that I was begging.

  "See?" Asce whispered and reached for my softening cock, the tentacle around it giving way to him. The shock of his touch made heat pool in my stomach again, despite the burn in my ass. "Let us in, Simon."

  I lifted my head to search the wide blue gaze on my face. Asce kissed me on the mouth, soft as anything and I felt myself melt. My heart hammered wildly in my chest but I let Asce continue to stroke me back to hardness. Slowly, the pain began to fade into a burn of pleasure. I relaxed my body and soon, the tentacle pumped in and out of my ass with earnest.

  Another moan slipped from my lips, and it was not one of fear.

  If the other tentacles had not been holding me up, I would have surely found myself sprawled in the water, but instead I stayed suspended and fully exposed. Asce's palm continued to slide over my cock in firm strokes until it thickened and filled with blood. I could feel it pulsing with my arousal and I gave another low groan as I tried to thrust into his hand. Pre-cum was beginning to gather at the tip. Asce swiped it with a thumb, pressing briefly down at the slit.

  "You're so, so beautiful, Simon."

  "A-Asce. Asce, _oh fuck_ -"

  A needy sound tore itself my throat then as the tentacle in my ass changed its angle and thrust up once, hard, until its tip nudge my prostate. Pleasure, red-hot and white, burst behind my eyelids. Fire rushed through my veins, blooming in my abdomen. My skin was slick with sweat and heaven knew what else. I mewled, tossing my head back, and my hips twitched forward. I could hear Asce chuckle.

  His hand left my cock but I did not have time to miss it, a new tentacle replacing him almost immediately. It undulated against my shaft, sending a starry rush through me. Then his fingers were tangling in my hair, guiding my head down. The tentacles binding my arms and legs and waist slackened slightly; just enough to bend me over so my face was in line with the bulge in Asce's trousers. My eyes flicked up to the blonde’s face and he smiled with his many, many rows of teeth.

  With deft fingers, Asce undid his pants and pushed them down to his knees. No underwear. I swallowed hard, his erection jutting out before me. Asce touched my cheek.

  "Come on, sweetheart."

  I felt no reluctance as I opened my mouth for him. I even sighed with something akin to want when the head of his cock slid past my lips and rest heavy and heady on my tongue. Above me, Asce hummed and slowly, begun to rock his hips forward.

  My shaking was barely controllable. I was being fucked from two ends, covered in the creature's slick slime as a thick tentacle thrust into my ass with relentless vigour and my head bobbed up and down to accommodate the cock in my mouth. The vision of me trussed up with tentacles made my arousal nearly overwhelming. Grunts were pounded out of me, making me choke every so often whenever my prostate was hit. Asce moaned in a way I had never heard him before as I trailed my tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock. He gave one particularly vicious thrust and I gagged hard when he hit the back of my throat.

  Asce pulled out completely then, letting me cough and wheeze, before taking a fistful of my hair and fucking my mouth again. Saliva and pre-cum drooled from the corners of my mouth, my lips stretched around Asce's throbbing cock. The tentacle buried deep in my ass continue to move hard and fast, bringing me closer and closer to my release, burying my nose in Asce's pubic hair.

  "Yes, oh yes, Simon," the younger man hissed and I found myself thirsty for more praise.

  He tensed abruptly and a heartbeat later, Asce's hot seed spilt into my mouth. I pulled my head back, just far enough so that his shaft slipped passed my lips and only the head of his cock was still inside. His cum landed on my tongue and Asce gave a huff of surprise as I swallowed, savouring the taste.

  Asce pulled out fully after he caught his breath and I whined in disappointment before I could catch myself.

When he laughed, I blushed hard.

  "Don't worry, love," he said.

  There was some movement above me and then I was upright again, my head swimming slightly. The shift in angle made me groan as the tentacle inside me rubbed against the walls of my ass, but the sound was quickly swallowed by Asce's kiss. Unthinkingly, I parted my lips for him and it was not until the writhing tentacle in his mouth darted past my teeth did I remember that he no longer had a tongue in the conventional sense.

  It was as if I had swallowed a glass of brine. I gasped and gagged but Asce did not move back. Instead, his tentacle reached further into my mouth, rubbing against my tongue and the roof of my mouth in an obscene kiss.

Orgasm was just at the edge of me. I could feel it building, building, and building. Burning me from the inside out. Galaxies and stars, and lightning igniting me. Asce's trailed hot kisses from the corner of my lips, to my jaw, down my neck, and chest. Licked his way down my drenched abdomen and dipped into my bellybutton for a brief second before continuing his descent. I could do little more than follow his progress with hooded eyes. Asce grinned up at me, every bit a predator, and opened his mouth to let the miniature tentacle inside uncoil and wrap around my cock.

  My eyes fluttered to a complete close when Asce's tongue undulated against my throbbing shaft and I could not stop the sounds of pleasure and incoherent pleas that poured from my lips. Then he cupped my balls in his hand, massaging them with precise fingers, making me buck helplessly.

_Fire and ice-_

The tip of his tentacle, pushed into my slit, further than before, timed with his other hand pumpingmy shaft in one firm pump. My whole body tensed, my eyes snapping open as pleasure overrodeevery other sensation. My orgasm hit me hard, without giving me a moment to breathe.A hoarse cry was wrenched from me, my back arching and slit flaring as I came. My knees wentweak and my thighs shook. If the tentacles were not holding me up by the arms, I would havedrowned myself in the water below me.

  The tentacle, still thrusting in and out of my entrance kept sending sparks through my nerves, but the sudden wave of exhaustion that washed over my entire being ensured that I could do little more than gasp with each thrust, voice too torn to make a sound above a whisper. I barely registered when it came inside of me, gushing and hot. There was so much of it - bloating me before it rushed back out, heavy and smelling like something bittersweet, pouring down my thighs and staining my skin like a brand.

  Slowly, with great care and love, the tentacles set me down. Asce held his arms out to catch me and with surprising ease, held me to his chest. One arm under my shoulders and another under my knees. He was murmuring things to me as I turned to bury my face in his shirt. I sighed deeply and a great sound of screaming, wailing laced with ancient names and lost songs came from The Creature's razor-mouth. Blood fell from my nose and ears in large ruby drops, my gums itching. I convulsed violently. Great visions of white sunken cities in far places beneath the sea seared itself into my mind's eye where Something called my name - a name with rolling words not meant to be spoken nor heard by man.

 


	5. Of Ever Afters

  They say that they found me outside of the dorm building, on the trail that lead from the university through the forest and eventually, to the sea beyond the trees. I was naked, bleeding, and bruised badly, said the young couple that came upon my unconscious figure. The boy thought perhaps I had been robbed - or worse - and the girl immediately rushed to get helped.

  I came to in a hospital room, white and sterile, with a nurse and doctor peering at my face. I blinked blearily at the two of them, and the nurse's face bloomed into a beautiful smile.

  "Mr. Booker? Are you awake? How are you feeling?"

  _I feel terrible_ , I thought but the words seemed too hard to form.

  "Water," I croaked instead. Tried to lick my cracked lips. "Please."

  No one knew what happened, least of all me. Not at first.

  Everything felt muted and I could hardly recall anything other than a stone wall and the taste of brine and blood in my mouth.

  Outside, the gibbous moon swam before my eyes and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

  Jules and Asce came to see me in the morning.

  The older man walked in first, a bouquet in hand. He looked as if he had not slept, and when he saw me, I raised a weak hand in greeting. I think I attempted a smile. Perhaps even a word or two.

  Professor Curwin simply set the flowers on my bedside and tentatively clutched my hand as if I would break.

  "Simon," he whispered. "How are you holding up?"

  "Fine. I think." I gave his hand a squeeze and forced my throat to work. "Thank you."

  I wanted to say more but a movement by the door caught my eye. Oxygen suddenly became scarce and the last thing I saw before my eyes rolled to the back of my head was Jules shouting for help and someone who looked like Asce rush to my side, touching my lips with warm fingers.

 

* * *

 

 

  "I'm sorry."

  Asce turned away from the window, surprise writ all over his features. "What for?"

  I smiled, though it felt strained. Guilt was gnawing at me, making my mouth sour with bile  during the evenings when all my visitors were eventually sent away. The blond simply crossed the room to stand by the hospital bed.

  Three days.

  It had been three days.

  "You needn't apologise for that. The screaming…It wasn't your fault."

  "I just don't know what came over me."

  "Oh Simon," the younger man cupped my cheeks. But I noticed when he hesitated, just for a split second, before leaning forward to kiss me. It made my chest constrict painfully. "I'm just glad they found you alive."

  Recovery was quick, though the bruises took some time to fade completely. I was out of the hospital within the week and I had my fair share of classmates coming to visit. But it was Prof. Curwin and Asce that came by the most. Never at the same time, of course. Asce usually came by in the evenings and the good professor visited in the afternoons. They were welcome distractions from the examinations and fussing. But the nightmares continued to come; dark dreams about dark caves beneath the sea.

 

* * *

 

 

  _Yes. Jules Curwin. He was getting in my way again - too clever for his own good._

  I told Professor Curwin about the catacombs and I told him of the thing I saw, resting there in the water and of what the thing with Asce's face had told me. There were things I needed to know.

  _He's been so careful, making sure no one accidentally wandered down here, taking it upon himself to keep us down here._

  We were out in the university gardens, resting on a bench overlooking a wide expanse of grass and flowers of every shade. I had hoped that he could – he _would_ \- provide some answers and perhaps even a way to stop the dreams plaguing me.

_I don't think he knew we wanted you, of course. You’ve got black in your blood too._

  Professor Curwin had looked at me in surprise at first, then frightened. And then wary. I almost thought he would not answer me. Perhaps he did not know as much as I thought, but I knew less.

  My fears were unfounded, however. Prof. Curwin sighed deeply in his rumbling way and began to speak. What he told me was only a portion of a story – one that he seemed reluctant to even share a little of. In a way this suited me just fine.

  "There are things here, yes." I felt a jolt of fear run through me then; a plummeting sensation in my stomach. I think part of me wanted to believe that it really all some sort of hallucination.

  His eyes never leaving my face, the professor continued: "I used to be a student here. Many, many years ago now. The catacombs were still open to visitors. It was like a novelty, or a tourist attraction of sorts. There were four tunnels that led to the place.

  Now I'm the only one who knows where all four are but I check on them every day and every night." He shifted uncomfortably, big hands stroking at the stubble on his chin.

  "I always knew there was something wrong with them, however. And yes, I did petition that they be sealed - after the mysterious disappearance of a law student. They had gone wandering in, apparently on a dare to find a piece of a skeleton. They were never seen again. They assumed he had fallen and drowned into the pool in the centre of the chambers. The hole you were telling me about was speculated to be connected to the ocean, but no one is sure."

  "I knew better. I could feel it. Those catacombs were an evil place and the disappearances would not stop at one. I knew that their entrances had to be blocked off. It is a place of old bones and shadows, Simon. A place of things that are better left forgotten. They are grounds on which gods once roamed."

  By the time he had finished speaking, Prof. Curwin's voice had lowered into a whisper and his eyes glanced about him as if he suddenly remembered where he was. I swallowed thickly, wringing my hands on my lap.

  "So what I saw -"

  Professor Curwin held up a hand and I stopped. He looked at me oddly. "But believe me when I tell you that I fixed that entrance as soon as I left you back at your dorm. I spent an entire day. If you look there now, you can see that it hasn't been touched since."

 

* * *

 

 

  I never did tell Asce about the secret beneath Engelsburg.

  Part of me believed that he didn't need to know. The other insisted that he did.

  I think it must be because I love him so much that I am so torn about it at all. Would it not help me rest easy to tell him? We could laugh about it; maybe talk about what it might mean. Then we could fuck and forget, and I could move on.

  But what if I told him, and he opened his mouth to kiss me with a tongue that tasted like stars at the bottom of the abysmal ocean depths? What if I closed my eyes and all I saw was black sand and white cities that rotted and rotted and rotted?

  Now I live out my days in a small town, far away from Engelsburg, far away from those catacombs, and Jules Curwin whose dark eyes sometimes visit me when I let my mind wander too far. I've achieved my dreams of becoming a teacher. My co-workers often comment on my quiet, reclusive behaviour, and I assure them that I am fine, always fine.

  Asce stays with me in our quaint one-storey house. He leaves in the mornings and comes home late in the afternoon, leaving me with a kiss at the front door, greeting me the same way when he returns. We have dinner together, discuss our days. Laugh about the things that happened at the firm or in the classrooms. Afterwards, we make love and I am thankful every day for Asce Linden who cried one winter evening when I stopped him under the streetlight we first kissed and asked him to marry me.

  I pretend that I don't hear the static any more.

  I pretend that I don't see the black ink pumping in my veins when I hold my hands to the light or cut my finger on a sharp edge.

  I pretend that I don't feel the deep, deep yearning inside of me to see the sun on the waves and drink from the ocean.

  I pretend that when I look in there mirror, my eyes are still green and not filled with flickering shadows that used to crouch in catacombs and shallow pools.

  I pretend.

  Sometimes when I wake in the night, sweating and terrified, I feel Asce beside me. He brushes his slender fingers over my brow with a touch so tender that my chest constricts to the point of physical pain. He hums a song I do not recognise as I let him lull me to sleep, something dissonant and lost from the deep black of the ocean floor.

**Author's Note:**

> …And so that wraps up 'The Secret Beneath Engelsburg'. You know, this story was only supposed to be 10,000 words. Maybe even less, but now look where we are. I wasn't even entirely sure that I was going to finish it. I just knew that I wanted to because - well, because I wanted to write tentacle porn. But I can't say that I regret making it this long. I enjoyed writing 'The Secret Beneath Engelsburg' and I'm happy to see it complete.
> 
> If you enjoyed 'The Secret Beneath Engelsburg', please consider leaving a review! It would mean the world to me know what you think; what you liked about it or what you didn't. I love hearing from readers and I know it's a little out of your way, but it would still be tremendously appreciated.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking it out with me and reading right until the end. I hope you had as much fun as I did.
> 
> Have a wicked day, pal.


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